


barely thought the thought

by wellexcuuuuuseme



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Depression/Anxiety, Gen, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, basically the show's approach to medicine pissed me off so i fixed it, discussion of medication, general mental health talk, gore text some//
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 15:09:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7689295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellexcuuuuuseme/pseuds/wellexcuuuuuseme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I only watched to ep 5 when I wrote this but this hc I still hold dear</p>
            </blockquote>





	barely thought the thought

Eliot noticed his favorite firstyear (that means Quentin) acting... off. Sometimes he was sleeping way too much, acting generally lethargic, and missing classes; sometimes he was up all night, pacing and fidgety, not pay attention to whatever was being said. 

Obviously this concerned Eliot, so he asked Q if they could talk, in private. 

"First, I want to say, this is an intervention." Eliot announced as Quentin sat down.

"What?" 

"You, my little Q, have a drugs problem." 

"I don't, I swear, I've never even taken–" Quentin said, panicking.

"No, no. That's not what I meant. You're not that cool." 

"Cool?" Quentin mouthed aside to no one in particular. 

"You told me you went to the hospital before you came here, I assume they prescribed you something?" 

"Yeah, but the Dean said—"

"Yes. Dean Fogg knows a lot of things, he knows a lot about magic, but he knows fuck shit about brain stuff." 

"And you know better?" Quentin said, growing frustrated by Eliot's confusing condescension.

"I know what the Dean said because he told me the same thing. And I know better because I, a vulnerable and trusting youth, did the same thing."

"What?" Quentin repeated. 

"Yes, Q, I'm not a stunning image of perfect mental health and starlight. I have OCD. Heard of it?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I take medicine, every day, and it _helps_ me. And I think yours could help you." 

"You really have..." 

"Yes, yes. Do I not seem it? Quentin, do you have any idea how much it sucks to be a telekinetic with OCD? Remember when I told you my 'dark secret', how I 'barely thought the thought'? Well one thing that OCD does is fill your head with terrible barely-thoughts all the time. Do you think that's fun to hypercorrect?"

"Ah, no."

"And another thing it does is make you constantly, constantly worry about the safety of you and your dear ones. Can you imagine, after the barely-thought of scissors going in and out of your sister's eyes pops into your head, checking on her minute after minute just to make sure it didn't happen? Can you imagine being so scared the bus disaster would happen again you stop going out, stop seeing people. Becoming a recluse because of what you could do on accident." 

Quentin was silent.

"You know that feeling you get, one of 'oh, I'm here, I have everything I've ever wanted, why am I still depressed'?"

Q nodded.

"Yeah, its because you've got depression."

"...Right." 

"So you're going to take your medicine?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"Good. Can I get a hug, you sappy-ass shit?"


End file.
